


A Robot's Guide to the Galaxy

by SkinnyAllMightsCoat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Theatre, M/M, Mental Illness, Panic Attacks, Shakespeare, Slight Angst?, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:28:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28645266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkinnyAllMightsCoat/pseuds/SkinnyAllMightsCoat
Summary: A little story that's meant to remind us that passion doesn't equal purpose, and forgiveness doesn't equal reconciliation.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Akaashi takes pride in the fact that the arts are a way to give a voice to those who are voiceless. It is a way to speak freely in a safe space and has helped shape how people think and feel throughout history. Akaashi is also a damned sucker for standing ovations and the after-show praise (he welcomes all lawsuits for that fact.)"
> 
> An introduction to Akaashi's life and a meet-cute with a certain someone who may or may not change Akaashi's perspective on what it means to grow up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever get an idea and it stays in your mind forever until you give in? Yeah, this that that. Also this has nothing to do with Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

Akaashi Keji was never one for great emotion. He stood by the rules (usually) and did his best to come by his trials and tribulations honestly. He got through highschool without any major mishaps and got accepted into university due to his drive and ambition. Akaashi is now a junior in college and after a few good minutes of soul searching during his walk to school, he decided that he needed to switch up his coffee order.

 _Oh yeah, this will definitely help,_ he told himself.

The reason behind the coffee switch-up? Akaashi hasn’t been feeling himself lately. Well, one might suppose that was obvious from the early-morning breakdown he was having. But this was a common practice for Akkashi. He had grown up distanced from himself, almost as if he were watching his reflection from an outside source rather than from his own body. Growing up he had friends who were so much brighter and confident, and never had to worry about daily energy and spoon theories and the like. He always felt like he was floating aimlessly and never having a specific destination. He often stuck close to his friends because they made him feel more grounded and secure. He once brought this topic up to his mother and with her bright eyes she just looked at him and said “That’s okay sweetie. It’s just who you are.” His family was kind but often made jokes about his bluntness and deadpan demeanor. Sure, Akaashi knew how to work a crowd and crack a joke when the time called for it but… he could be more than those halves, right? He was more than a burst of charisma or his lack of words, wasn’t he? The run-on jokes kept coming and he eventually got used to it, but if a lack of sentences was who he was, boy did he feel loved for it!

He really was enjoying his early morning angst fest. And that was sarcasm. Anyway- 

Akaashi Keji was a junior theatre major who was in the middle of an identity crisis and was going to be late for his theatre history 2 class because he decided he wanted to try something new for once in his life.

 _Good job Keji!_ He thought resentfully. 

Akaashi began playing with his fingers as he waited for his large, salted caramel latte near the pick-up counter. He began to people-watch to pass the time and- yup never mind his name was called.

Akaashi grabbed his hot latte and walked toward the door, but before he could reach it he crashed latte-first into someone else as they were walking in. His latte top fell off the cup but thankfully only a little spilled on both of their shirts. Akaashi looked up to find bright golden eyes staring at him. The stranger in question was wearing a grey beanie with bits of white-tipped hair sticking out. He wore an anxious grimace to match.

“Dude I am so sorry! I really need to watch where I’m going, huh?” The stranger chuckled, a bit embarrassed. 

Akaashi simply bent down and placed the lid back on the cup. He looked at both of their shirts and only noticed a few small spots marked by his latte. He shrugged, “It’s okay, I’m just glad nothing more spilled.” Akaashi began to maneuver his way to the door. “Have a good day- sorry, again.”

The beanie-head guy waved, “No, it’s okay! Have a good day!” 

And with that Akaashi left for his class. Thankfully his campus’ coffee shop wasn’t too far from where his class was located. He just hoped his professor hadn’t gone over anything too important for their upcoming quiz.  
  


*****

After his class Akaashi headed toward his university’s theater. It was sort of a big day, as he had a callback for one of the leads for his college’s production of _Richard II_ . While he wasn’t super anxious about the callback, he still wasn’t fine and dandy. And his latte didn’t really do him any favors. He sometimes gets some guff from his professors about his caffeine addiction and how it isn’t healthy for actors because they always need to be in their best shape. You know, for longevity. But Akaashi never paid them any mind; there were many actors who drank more than two cups of coffee daily, and honestly Akaashi couldn’t really care less because he _needed_ his coffee. End of discussion.

His school’s theater was a small building that was cornered at the back of the campus. While it definitely was not one of the newest additions made to the array of buildings, the tall structure had trees that surrounded it, making it seem like some hidden treasure. Like he was hiding away to unleash some dark secret. It made him feel happy.

As he walked to the front entrance he glanced at the audition sign ups for their next production. They hadn’t been taken down even though auditions had been held a few days ago. The papers in question were multiple pieces of paper taped together that had “Richard II Audition Sign Ups” in bold and a bunch of names scribbled underneath. Akaashi looked at some of the names and found his own among them, second to last from the end. He swallowed thickly and thought back to his audition as he opened the doors and walked into the theater’s lobby. He saw the assistant stage manager near the auditorium entrance and took a deep breath as he started walking over. 

“Hello there.” Akaashi greeted the girl behind the small table. She smiled back but quickly began typing away at her computer. He wrote his name down on a piece of paper and the girl gave him his numbered badge. He then walked over to an unoccupied space along a random wall and slid down. Akaashi took his book bag and pulled out his callback material, looking at his work and reciting what he could by memory. He enjoyed Shakespeare and had a great respect for those who dedicated their lives to master it. It was hard work- making sure your diction and meter were correct as well as the meanings of the lines. There was surprisingly a lot more to it than he had thought before entering college. 

Akaashi felt a waft of cold air and turned his head to look at who just entered the building. His brows furrowed out of frustration because it was just like him to spill coffee on a possible auditionee. The gold-eyed beanie guy strutted his way to the girl behind the table and took a number. He then turned around, walked to the wall across from Akaashi and sat down with a sigh. Akaashi quickly began to gain major interest in the work that was on his lap. That was better than staring at the small coffee stains that were still visible if you squinted, and were the clumsy oaf who put them there. 

Suddenly the girl behind the table stood up and cleared her throat, “Excuse me” she started, “Everyone can go ahead on inside. Thank you for waiting.”

With that, Akaashi took a deep breath and slowly let it out. His nerves (like the traitors they were) began to act up (pun intended without apologies) and that was the only way he could calm them, even if it was only for a short while. Akaashi tucked his work under his arm and stood up. After straightening his shirt he looked up and was met with beanie-guy, who was staring at him with a look of surprise and amusement. 

As people started making their way into the auditorium the guy leaned into Akaashi’s space and spoke quietly.

“Hey Hey Hey! Long time no see, huh? What are the odds?” He chuckled.

Akaashi bristled the moment the stranger closed in on his beloved personal bubble. His _bubble_ for crying out loud- did people not know about bubbles anymore? Even so, Akaashi was a polite human so he faked a chuckle to match.

“Yeah, I know right? Sorry again about earlier.” 

Akaashi showed his best apology smile and made his way down one of the aisles, sitting somewhere close to the front, about four rows back from the front of the stage. He just sat down when he saw movement from his peripheral and looked up. The beanie guy stood where the row started and with hesitancy in his eyes asked, “Is it okay if I sit here? I don’t really know anyone.”

“Oh, um yeah. Sure.” Akaashi put up another polite smile and released his papers that were stuck under his arms. He carefully made sure they were all in order and then held his breath once more. The director stood from behind the white table that was placed in front of the front row, and she turned around to face the auditionees that were sitting in random spots close to the stage. 

“Hello everyone and it's nice to see you again. I know you are all very busy students so let us get started, shall we?” 

The director glanced down at the stage manager who was busy typing something on his laptop and murmured some sort of question. The green-haired stage manager looked up and gave a polite nod and murmured something back. The director looked back at the nervous crowd.

“Okay,” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s begin with everyone who has side number three.”

Akaashi sighed. _Okay, they just want to get rid of the smaller parts first. Relax,_ he thought. Just as he was sliding back in his chair with his determined huff, he saw the beanie guy stand up and walk toward the stage with a few others. They all looked like they could either be reading for guards or for some of the older characters. Akaashi slapped his hand around his mouth as he watched everyone go through the scene that was on side number three. They weren’t bad but they weren’t good either. The broad-shouldered coffee incident was about third from the end and looked like he was about to burst. Akaashi was pretty certain that this guy was some random student just trying to do something new. Either that or this was a dare. Whatever the guy’s deal he was intrigued at what might come out of the guy’s mouth.

Choking down his laughter, Akaashi watched the row of guys attempt Shakespeare as best they could. Beanie-guy actually wasn’t the worst one and had a handle on the meter of the words. His stage presence just…. needed to be toned down. 

As the row of guys were dismissed, the director called out another side and more people got up. Akaashi expected Beanie-guy to be done after his cold read but he just sat back in his spot and watched. More and more people were called up, and eventually it was just a few guys left. The director got up and called all of the prospective Richards up. Akaashi took a breath, stood up with his papers and walked onstage with the other guys. By now his nerves had skyrocketed and he was second guessing all of the work that he spent many late nights laboring over. _If anything,_ Akaashi’s mind began, _this is a good experience. The more auditions the less you get nervous. Don’t think about it too much. Focus._ Akaashi liked to think that his mind was on to something, so he forced himself to watch the director walk up to the small row of auditionees and stop.

“Thanks gentlemen for waiting. I will try not to keep you all here for much longer. Normally, we would have more scenes with Richard and Henry but I believe that this monologue is the essence of the entire play. With that, I need to make sure that you know what to do with the words and feelings of those words. So we can start from right to left, and once you are done you are dismissed unless otherwise told. Thank you for being here and let us start, hm?”

Akaashi groaned internally as the first guy stepped forward and began speaking. _In thirty minutes this will all be over. Just think about when you can go take a nap._ This was Akaashi’s mantra whenever his nerves got the best of him in auditions. Overall, he appreciated the process of auditioning and finding the right actors to present the characters in the best possible way. It was basically a job interview for work that never lasted; it sucked but it was worth it. If this was anything else Akaashi would have quit before he got started. He hated the nerves that he got when auditioning or when he was performing, not to mention dislike for drama that goes on in any school show or community theater. The only reason he sticks with theatre is because he loves it- as contradictory as that sounds. For Shakespeare works, Akaashi loves the effort that it takes to learn how to speak the lines as they were supposed to be spoken. The meter, couplets, and poetry of plays from that era were beautiful and, quite frankly, soothed the soul. For modern works he loves the connection that the audience can easily make and how far one can go when dictating messages and imagery. Akaashi takes pride in the fact that the arts are a way to give a voice to those who are voiceless. It is a way to speak freely in a safe space and has helped shape how people think and feel throughout history. Akaashi is also a damned sucker for standing ovations and the after-show praise (he welcomes all lawsuits for that fact.) 

There are two auditionees left before Akaashi’s turn and he wants to do anything but this. He tries to distract himself by looking out into the audience that doesn’t exist. _Wait… he’s still here?_ Akaashi asks himself as if he doesn’t know the answer. The beanie-guy is still sitting in his spot, golden eyes on Akaashi’s green. The guy has a small smile and gives a thumbs up for encouragement. Akaashi gives an obligatory smile along with a slight nod in return. _Even with all of that- why is he still looking at me? What does he want- Oh._ He puts two and two together and lifts his hand into a thumbs up sign. Beanie-guy gives a bigger smile and nods as if to say “it took you long enough!” 

Finally, Akaashi’s time for the gallows comes and he steps forward while smoothing his numbered badge over his shirt. For a brief moment he panics but manages to contain himself as he sits on the ground. Some of the others made this decision and some chose to forgo it altogether; Akaashi pretends he is an original piece of art and starts off on the ground. With another grounding breath and nod from the director, he begins:

“No matter where; of comfort no man speak:

Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;

Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes

Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,

Let’s choose executors and talk of wills:

And yet not so, for what can we bequeath”

So far so good. He feels himself opening up to the imagery and it’s thrilling how welcome it feels. 

“Save our deposed bodies to the ground?

Our lands, our lives and all are Bolingbroke’s,

And nothing can we call our own but death

And that small model of the barren earth

Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.”

Akaashi feels the longing in the poetry of the words as he gestures to the ground.

“For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground

And tell sad stories of the death of kings;

How some have been deposed; some slain in war,

Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;

Some poison’d by their wives: some sleeping kill’d;”

The words are haunting and he relishes in it. 

“All murder’d: for within the hollow crown

That rounds the mortal temples of a king

Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,

Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,

Allowing him a breath, a little scene,”

Akaashi looks up at beanie-guy. For some reason he needs beanie-guy to understand that he can’t just waltz in because of a lost bet; that what Akaashi does is not a joke. Akaashi is not a joke. And so he finishes Richard II’s story.

“To monarchize, be fear’d and kill with looks,

Infusing him with self and vain conceit,

As if this flesh which walls about our life,

Were brass impregnable, and humour’d thus

Comes at the last and with a little pin

Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!

Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood

With solemn reverence: throw away respect,

Tradition, form and ceremonious duty,

For you have but mistook me all this while:

I live with bread like you, feel want,

Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,

How can you say to me, I am a king?”

Akaashi settles in the ending beat by continuing his stare at beanie-guy, and damns himself for indulging in the drama of storytelling once again. After the beat has ended Akaashi thanks the director, smiles, and walks back to his seat to get his stuff. Beanie-guy doesn’t say anything to him but Akaashi hears him walking behind to the exit signs. Once they reach the lobby he thanks the assistant stage manager behind the table and exits the theater. Immediately after, Akaashi turns around and- yup beanie-guy is right there. And he’s staring. _This is not normal social behavior_ Akaashi red-flags.

“Sorry, am I in your way?” Akaashi asks.

The guy seems surprised that someone noticed him. “Oh, no sorry. Um, I just wanted to tell you that um…” He swallows,”...you did really well. Like you were really good. Probably the best in the room!”

 _I want my nap_ Akaashi broods.

“I also wanted to apologize for making you spill your coffee earlier. Really, that was my bad. So, um, I guess I was wondering if I could get you a replacement coffee?” 

Akaashi blinks. “What?”

“Oh! Um, it doesn’t have to be today. We could go sometime this week if that works better.” A blush begins to show and on the guy’s face as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

Akaashi shakes his head from the sudden outburst of confusion. _This has got to be another part of a lost bet_ his mind insists. Instead of speaking his mind he settles for a put out “Oh.” 

Akaashi has never been asked out before so why should people start asking now? And why this guy? This guy looks like a university jock, and aren’t people supposed to ask jocks out and not the other way around? 

Beanie-guy’s blush increases and Akaashi takes the guy’s embarrassment as a reminder that a reply should have happened by now.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude but… why?” Akaashi is curious for the real reason.

Beanie-guy shrugs “why not?”

“Well, I mean, for starters we’re strangers.”

“Oh, I’m Bokuto Kotarou!” Bokuto offers his hand and Akaashi shakes it.

“I’m Akaashi Keji.”

“Now we know each other's names! Would you please go out for replacement coffee with me, Akaashi? It could be today or sometime this week if that works better.”

 _Please let me take my nap,_ his mind argues.

“Um, thank you for the introduction Bokuto-san, but I still don’t quite understand why you’re asking me out. We don’t know each other.”

“Isn’t the point of a date to get to know someone?” 

Surprised by Bokuto-san’s persistence, Akaashi rebbutles “Well yeah, but isn’t asking out someone you don’t know dangerous? What about stranger danger?”

“No offense, but I think I could take you on if you were dangerous,” Bokuto counters.

Akaashi’s mind takes offense. _We get it. You’re a hot jock with muscles. what’s your point?_

Raising a brow, he argues back “I could be a stalker. I could steal your identity.”

“But you’re not,” Bokuto argues.

“But I could be Bokuto-san. You don’t know me.”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you would obviously rather waste your time by trying out for super long plays than by taking the time to stalk someone.” A beat and then, “Are you?”

“Am I what?” 

“Stalking me.”

“No- you came up to me, remember?” 

“See? Go out with me!”

“When?”

“I mean, I’m free right now if you’re free! Also-”

“I-” Akaashi starts, but Bokuto-san interrupts his interruption with a sound argument.

“Free coffee.”

 _Damn, he’s good,_ Akaashi's mind relents.

“Fine.”

Bokuto-san beams and leads the way to the university coffee shop while a hesitant and confused Akaashi mourns his nap.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We hear results from the callbacks and Akaashi gets an... interesting phone call from home.

The walk to the coffee shop was slightly awkward, as both Bokuto-san and Akaashi jumped from topic to topic trying to find a subject that suited both of their tastes. By the time that the two got to the back of the very long line filled with lethargic college students Akaashi made up his mind. He decided that if this is what a date was supposed to be then he was going to die alone; once he got his free coffee he was going to bolt. 

This was a date... right? 

_Shoot,_ Akaashi thinks, _am I reading this wrong?_ _Is that why this is so awkward?_

After about five minutes of another patch of awkward silence Bokuto-san heaved a heavy sigh and gave a weary side-eye to Akaashi. The look on his face was somewhere between disappointment and unease but Akaashi knew that look well. It was a look that he had seen all too often growing up. _I hate that look._

Akaashi immediately scrunched his face in annoyance. “What?”

Bokuto-san continued to stare as the line shifted and they both moved forward a few steps. He then turned fully to face Akaashi, head tilting down to highlight the few inches that the former had on the latter. Bokuto-san sighed through his nose and gave a small chuckle. “Nothing really,” he began, gold eyes still latched onto Akaashi’s green ones, “ I guess I just assumed you were one of those… you know… artsy types.”

They both moved forward a few steps but Bokuto-san returned to his previous stance. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Akaashi asked, feeling the dread of the conversation creep up on him.

“Nothing bad, I just thought you would be talking about your performance earlier or, at the very least, talk about mine.” He laughed loudly, which did nothing for Akaashi’s anxiety. “I mean, it wasn’t exactly the best _especially_ compared to yours!”

Akaashi successfully fought off a proud smile and did his best to look unamused (this look was payback for making him feel anxious). “That attitude surprises me Bokuto-san. I thought you were the confident type.”

Bokuto-san smiled back with his head held high, “I am confident! I just know when I do bad. I mean you saw me up there, I made a fool of myself.” With that, his smile started to fade and he had a more serious expression on his face. It almost looked… sad?

_Wasn’t he smiling a second ago? And why does it matter?_

Akaashi blames his tiredness and post-callback relief for his empathy. He bites his bottom lip for a moment, trying to conjure up a proper response to make that sad look go away. Why? Because Akaashi is nice.

“You weren’t bad.” Akaashi deadpanned. 

He immediately scolded himself. _Bad. Bad job. I’m bad at this. Try again._

He swallowed and then looked over at Bokuto-san. The deadpan really didn’t help at all. If anything it made things worse. Akaashi lifted his voice a bit and tried once more. “Really, you weren’t bad.” Bokuto-san’s eyes looked less dead, so he continued, assuming that was a good sign. “In my opinion, as long as you give life to your character then you can’t be bad. And you did that, so don’t worry so much.”

Bokuto-san looked deep in thought as they trudged to the front of the line. After another moment he looked back at Akaashi.

“Really?” he asked. His tone was quiet and doubtful.

“Mhm. I know we are still strangers but I suggest that you trust me. I know what I’m talking about. You did well with the material that you were given, which was barely anything to begin with.” 

And right before they walked up to the cash register, Bokuto-san lifted his shoulders and puffed his chest out, reverting back to his tall posture. He also began to smile kindly, eyes back to their annoying and persistent shine. “Thanks Akaashi.”

Despite being slightly put off with how this coffee date was going, Akaashi couldn’t help but smile back. He felt a little ping of satisfaction knowing that he played a major part in lifting someone’s spirits, as cheesy as that sounds.

He shrugged and gave a half-hearted “sure” before they both walked up the register, spirits a little higher than before.

***** 

True to Akaashi’s unspoken word, once he got his free coffee he told Bokuto-san (“You can drop the honorific Akaashi, we’re friends now!” “Thanks for the coffee Bokuto-san.” “Tch”) that he had somewhere important to be right after. And if that important place was his apartment then nobody had to know. 

Once he opened the door to his university apartment he was greeted with his roommate, Komi, watching some tattoo artist show on their small tv. Peeking his interest, once Akaashi dropped off his stuff in his room he beelined for his spot on their used couch. His spot was the very left corner, as it provided the safety of being the farthest from the room and didn’t make his neck strain when watching tv. Akaashi didn’t have a ton of specific “things,” but his spot on the couch was one of them. 

Once he settled himself on the couch, Komi greeted him with a non-committal grunt. They both turned to the tv and watched contestants ink each other's skin with extreme colors and designs. While watching the show's contestants win and lose, Akaashi lets his mind wander to whatever his mind happened to think about. He thinks about his classes that day and whether or not he understood the material, and the answer is obviously no because he never remembers anything considering how many times he lets his mind drift off. He thinks about the callbacks and if the choices he made helped give authenticity to his performance. The feeling of the performance was adequate enough so that probably yielded some sort of positive result. Remembering that Komi is supposed to graduate this semester along with the thought of looking for a new roommate is too stressful. Akaashi’s anxiety is already too much to handle, and finding someone who is as respectful and understanding as Komi will be near impossible.

Akaashi doesn’t let his mind wander to his time with Bokuto-san; his mind stressing over a new acquaintance could possibly cause his mind to spiral.

Komi glances over to Akaashi once the episode ends and brings his feet from the floor to up on the couch, crossing them. “How were callbacks?”

kaashi mirrors his roommate's position and shrugs, “They were fine. I don’t know if or when I will hear back.”

Komi hums. “Have you eaten yet? We could go grab something before the dinner rush.”

“I stopped at the coffee shop on the way back from the theater. I’m okay.” Akaashi sighs and drops his head against the back of the couch. “Any luck on those internships?”

Komi had made the decision before the semester began to focus solely on internship searching. As a fellow theatre major, he knew how hard it was to get into things like Summerstalk or professional theater’s around the country. So, knowing this all too well, Komi rubs his eyes and gives another grunt. “I emailed a few more places so hopefully someone gets back to me before it’s too late.” He reaches for the remote and turns off the tv, then stands up. “You would think I would get at least an interview or two with how many people I’ve emailed and called!” 

Akaashi gives him a sympathetic smile, “You know how theaters are though, they are always too picky or play favorites. You have proved that you are hard working and quite talented, so I have a good feeling about you getting an offer before graduation.”

“Eh, thanks. It’s stressful and I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. I think I’ll go work on homework.” Komi gives a lazy wave and goes to his room with slumped shoulders. Akaashi really does feel bad for his friend and roommate. Getting offers for internships in the theatre business is a hard task, and a lot of people refuse to go that route because they fear it is a waste of time. Komi wants to get more experience under his belt before deciding his next steps as a college graduate, and even though he would be extremely poor it would be worth it. Akaashi is proud of his friend for actually taking initiative in working towards his future. Even he has spent the last two years struggling with career choices and quite frankly nothing is sparking his interest anymore. He used to be so passionate about performing and music, and now he can barely persuade himself to audition for a university show, let alone look for internships. But once again, if he dwells on these thoughts for too long he will find himself falling into another spiral, so he stops his thoughts where they are.

Right as he forces himself to stop thinking up a storm his phone begins to buzz. Akaashi lifts his head from the back of the couch and reaches into his back pocket to see who’s calling him. The words _DAD CALLING_ are lit up on his phone and Akaashi groans. _Do I delay the problem or end the day on a bad note? He’s probably just calling about finances anyway- stop being weird_ Akaashi thinks to himself. He really hopes the conversation is just about student loans or paperwork that he might have forgotten to fill out. But the universe usually isn’t on Akaashi’s side, so he really doubts it.

With his chest already beginning to constrict, he slides his thumb across the screen and holds the phone against his ear. He feels life drain out of him as his voice automatically changes into monotone. “Hey dad, what’s up?” 

His dad’s chirpy voice springs into the receiver. “Hey son, how’s it going?”

“Fine.”

A pause.

“Well... your mom and I were thinking about you, and I just wanted to check up on you and see how things were over there!”

Akaashi takes a breath and stands to his feet to get the blood flowing in his stubborn little brain. Why he can’t have normal conversations with his father anymore, he will never know. Ever since moving into university life and away from home, things from the past just sort of hit Akaashi in the face one day. It’s not like he was treated terribly or anything- no. His mother was a wonderful woman and usually did what was best for their family: taking on multiple jobs to help pay the bills, pinching pennies, giving others the things they no longer needed , encouraging her son to pursue his passions, all while taking care of both their house and Akaashi. He was proud of all that she has done for him and loved her dearly. His father, however, caused a bit of emotional whiplash. Akaashi’s father became a workaholic early on in Akaashi’s life, assumingly when their finances started becoming an issue and his mother unable to find a job at the time. Working to put bread on the table is honorable, but working until what's most important to you becomes a burden is inexcusable. Akaashi’s father then developed an explosive temper which erupted every other day, and Akaashi is unfortunately reminded of this whenever he reflexively recoils from loud people. It’s a great conversation starter.

That was sarcasm, once again. 

“Well just like last time there is nothing to report. I wake up, I go to class, I sometimes go to rehearsal and then I do my homework and go to sleep. Lather, rinse, and repeat.”

Akaashi hears his father’s frustrated sigh and it makes his chest fill with a familiar mixture of anger and guilt. “Come on, there’s got to be something going on. Are you in a play right now?” His father questions. 

_It’s not like you would remember even if I was._

Akaashi breaths in slowly and answers quickly. “No, I just had a callback for a Shakespeare show and I don’t know when I’ll hear back. Is there anything else you need?”

Another sigh comes through the receiver and an eye roll is given as a silent reply. “Listen Keji, I know we still aren’t on the best of terms but I’m really trying here. We used to talk when you were younger! You would talk to me… actually talk. You’ve changed, and I’m getting tired of playing the punching bag for your old grudges you had when you were younger. Don’t you think it’s time to grow up?”

Akaashi’s eyes widen and his blood turns to fire. “I have grown up, and I’ve realized that I don’t owe you a nice and long conversation about my current life. You don’t deserve that, considering you never actually knew what my life even was in the past because you were _never_ there. I appreciate you doing what you believed to be your best when I was younger, and I appreciate you paying for school. I really do. But I am tired of this constant guilt trip every time you call. I ask for space and you are never patient enough for that. I ask for understanding and you take offence as if you never did anything wrong.” He sighs out the rest of his frustrations and starts for his room, hand gripping hard at his phone. “I have homework to do dad and I would appreciate it if you would allow me to study so that I can keep my grades up.” 

His father furiously sighs yet again, and Akaashi wonders if he will ever revert back to those childish manipulative tactics that he used in his early teenage years. His father’s tone flips from friendly to full anger, “Fine, whatever. Your mom says hi.” And then the sound of their phones disconnecting is heard.

Akaashi throws his phone on his bed and slams his door. He then walks over and kicks the bottom of his mattress. Sure, this may be a small tantrum but after dealing with these constant guilt trips Akaashi likes to think he’s allowed one every once in a while. 

The most frustrating thing is that after every phone call he has with his father, Akaashi spends the rest of the day wondering if he really is acting childish. What if he’s being ungrateful or selfish? Is his lack of communication some kind of act of revenge? The uncertainty of it all is always at the back of his mind like one of those commercial slogans that are left to plague your memories for years. His friends have always reassured him that he is in the right, and that his father was a jerk who mentally abused their family for years. They tell him that this is just the aftermath of it all. Still, it feels wrong to indulge in the freedom of the constant mental escapades he grew up with. Sure, there were always those bad days, but there was also some good as well. Like the time when his family went on that long beach vacation and they went body surfing and slept in until lunchtime. Or those times when his mom and him would spend their mornings drinking hot chocolate or coffee, talking about whatever they wanted before Mr. Akaashi woke up. Or the time when Akaashi and his father went fishing and they ended up wasting their entire day at the wrong spot, going home empty handed.

The good times were a reminder that life wasn’t as bad as it could have been. _Things could have been worse,_ he reminds himself. Here is where the guilt comes flooding in and when Akaashi convinces himself that he could have conducted his part of the conversation way better than he did. His father didn’t really deserve to be ghosted throughout the time spent away at school. Akaashi knows that his father’s temper has gotten better, and that the loss of a child’s relationship must be hard on any parent. But Akaashi truly can’t help it and that’s the kicker.

The guilt continues to grow and it makes his chest hurt.

_Shit._

Akaashi lays on the bed with his head on the pillow and tries to even his breathing. He doesn’t try to stop his eyes from blurring and eventually they end up spilling hot tears down his temples. 

_The popcorn ceiling, the fan, my closet, my bed, my feet._ Akaashi starts his grounding exercise with five things he can see. Next is four things he can touch:

_My pillow, my shirt, my bed, and my pants._

Three things he can hear: _My breathing, the AC, and Komi talking on the phone._

The next part is two things he can smell but since the only thing registering is dust, he skips it.

The final step is one thing he can taste: _coffee._

As his panic attack subsides, Akaashi roles over and looks back at his phone and sees an email notification. He unlocks his phone and goes to the email application, watching it load. He sees an email with the description “Richard II” and immediately sits up. When he finally gets the courage to open the email, he reads:

“ _Hello,_

 _Thank you for auditioning for Richard II! I would like to congratulate you and announce that you have been officially cast as the role of:_ **_Richard II_ **

_I will be the Stage Manager for this show, so please make sure you save my contact information so that you can reach out to me if you need anything. I will be creating a chat group for the cast and will add everyone shortly._

_To let me know that you accept your role, please respond back to this email ASAP. We would like to have our first readthrough sometime next week._

_If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please let me know! I am excited to be working with you. It is going to be a great show._

_Best,_

_Tadashi Yamaguchi  
_ _Stage Manager_

After reading the email Akaashi quickly types his acceptance and numbly stares at the ceiling once more, repeating the question:

_How? How? How?_

Eventually a smile creeps on his face and he lets this good feeling wash over him because finally… fucking _finally._

He has finally done something right. Something good. 

And he will do everything he can to make sure this feeling never leaves him. 

Akaashi's mind suddenly flashed with images of grey beanies and glowing eyes, and he be begins to wonder if he'll be seeing Bokuto-san anytime soon. And as he lays there, staring at the popcorn ceiling, he recalls the uncomfortable posture during the callbacks and his naivety to the process overall. He wondered how those broad shoulders would even fit in a rehearsal setting? _Why did he even audition in the first place?_

Whatever. Akaashi needed his nap and this could wait until later.


End file.
